


The other me

by Kibounohane



Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: Gloves, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 09:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7309573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibounohane/pseuds/Kibounohane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Makoto meets his other self, things develop unexpectedly as his clone decides to play with his body after fighting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The other me

**Author's Note:**

> Set at episode 37

The same hands, the same lips, yet it felt different.

So different from when he touched himself, knowing every inch of his body, how it reacted, how his hands felt on his skin.

Now here he was, with this guy looking exactly like him yet being such a strange, completely different person.

 

A creature.

 

It was the same body and still different. Makoto shivered when his clone's gloved hand brushed over his chest featherly, he felt stiff, unable to run away because of the cold Houdini chains around his wrists that the other had tied him up with around one of the piers in the parking lot he had followed the other to.

Perplexed and horrified as that hand reached out to tug the zipper of his biker leather jacket down, and both stared at each other, yet his evil twin smirked at him predatorily. All kinds of thoughts ran through Makoto's head and he clenched his fingers into a fist.

Feeling helpless, he wanted to look away, at least being able to have control over what he looked at. He turned his head to the side as his jacket was opened and he squeezed his eyes close as a warm and wet tongue suddenly lapped at one of his nipples.

 

Unable to hide a gasp of surprise, Makoto turned his head again, this time to look. What in the world was the other doing? So he was not going to torture and kill him?

"What?" a soft chuckle reached his ears as the clone roamed his hands over his chest. "I've always wanted to play with myself"

Makoto stared at him blankly in disbelief, not knowing what to say.

"Liar," he finally muttered out bitterly, "you're not me."

 

A black satin glove pressed against his lips and the other looked at him mischieviously. "Hush," came the gently hum shortly before the other pressed his lips on his own. „I am you“.

It was so very weird to be kissed by oneself, but if that was what his lovers felt, Makoto contemplated that he wasn't the worst kisser. Withdrawing from his lips and pressing closer to his form, the other Makoto slowly began to move, pushing and pressing and grinding against his hips for a long time until Makoto couldnt help but let out an audible gasp, feeling his body react to the friction despite him wanting this.

He gritted his teeth, feeling grudge burn in his chest as the other just smirked contently as his hand unzipped his biker pants. "N.. no," Makoto let out, "don't..." He snarled angrily, bristling as the other pressed his hand against his arousal, a bright red color of shame appearing on Makotos features and he started to hate himself for enjoying this.

Helplessly, he watched as his pants were pushed down just a bit, enough for the other to free his cock, gently jerking it with the satin glove which added quite a new feel to this. It was futile. Makoto hissed. He hated being defenseless.

 

He had done it to himself many times before but the feeling of fabric against his bare flesh was new. He hated to admit even to himself that it began to arouse him deeply. He moaned as he felt a pair of incredibly soft lips and a warm mouth around his dick and his head fell back against the cold hard pier as the other began to work his mouth on him godly.

Makoto wondered if he really had skills like this, or if it was what the other did. He was confused and his brain was smushy, not being able to think straight. Releasing his arousal with an obscene sound, the other Makoto got up and took his chin between two fingers, facing him straight up.

"I know what you like because I am you" He chirped before stroking down his index gloved finger across the tall rider's chest.

"It can't be..." Makoto uttered, gasping, always keeping eye contact. Makoto was clever enough not to try to break free from Houdini's chains as he knew how powerful they were and any friction would only leave ugly marks on his wrists.

 

He remained calm, brown dark orbs following the other's every move. His body was tense, ready for a fight, every nerve in flames. He pressed his lips together when he felt that satin fabric around his warm flesh again, building up a slow, steady rhythm, thumb gently caressing the tip and it became harder to resist the pleasure that rose from the actions, his body seeking release, his muscles tense, ready to come.

He leaned his head against the pier again, trying somehow to not grant the other this victory, trying to supress the waves that felt so nice, so good, but it was in vain. The rhythm was perfect, just how he liked it, the pressure adding to it, and the other kept stroking him steadily until Makoto's lips parted and he came, helplessly, into the warm gloved hand, his head falling forward and his eyes squeezing shut.

"We will meet again," the other whispered darkly into his ear before walking away with an evil grin, disappearing back to Ganma World and at the same moment, the Houdini chains fell off to the hard floor, and with them Makoto sank to his knees.

 

 

 


End file.
